Reflections on Life

With the earthquake in Haiti, I've been thinking a lot about how life on earth is so different depending on where you are born. Some people seem to live through unending tragedy and suffering, while others live lives of comfort and opportunity. Of course there are challenges in life no matter where you live--and there is plenty of suffering (particularly emotional suffering) even in my own community. But I've been wondering about what it will be like when this life is over and we all have time to talk about what happened. What will I say to a woman who never learned how to read, who lost child after child because of poor living conditions and lack of medical help, who lived in fear of her violent community? Will I be uncomfortable talking about my life? Will I feel embarrassed even though I had as little control over where I was born as she did?

Inequality has always been somewhat troubling to me. I have never liked the statement "Life's not fair," even though I know to a certain extent this is true. I'm the type of person who thinks that if you chew a piece of gum, you should offer a piece to everyone around you. If you have a party, you need to invite everyone you know. This is a very superficial definition of equality, but you know what I mean. If I were calling the shots, I would want everyone in the world to have a comfortable place to live, a loving family, a great education, and the chance to develop a talent. . . every blessing I have. But I know that's not the point. If we were handed everything, there would be nothing to work for, nothing to learn. The truth is, I would want everyone to have the opportunity to create happy, successful lives for themselves.

In my class, we're talking about themes in literature that center around "the human spirit" and the potential for individuals to rise above their circumstances and achieve the impossible. This is in preparation to read a play based on The Diary of Anne Frank. And although Anne did not survive, she still did acheive the seemingly impossible--as a 14-year-old, recording a very personal witness of the holocaust for the world to read. And perhaps the even more impossible-- maintaining hope and life through her months and months of hiding.

Recently I also read a passage in the Book of Mormon which had new meaning for me. Two verses from Jacob 5, which is part of an allegory about a master (Jesus Christ) and servant (prophet or follower of Christ) who are grafting trees (groups of people): "And it came to pass that the servant said unto his master: How comest thou hither to plant this tree, or this branch of the tree? For behold, it was the poorest spot in all the land of thy vineyard. And the Lord of the vineyard said unto him: Counsel me not; I knew that it was a poor spot of ground; wherefore, I said unto thee, I have nourished it this long time, and thou beholdest that it hath brought forth much fruit"
(Jacob 5: 21-22).

What I learn from this scripture is that God knows that some of His children are born in "poor spots " of the world. But that does not mean he does not love these less. Quite the contrary; He "nourishes" and remembers and cares for these people even more. And he knows that they, just like everyone else, have the ability to grow, love, and do good with their lives.

So, maybe it doesn't matter where we are born after all. Life really is different for each of us. And life truly is harder for some. But God loves us all, and hopes that whatever our lot in life, we will choose to do good with what we have. And for those of us with more, the task is ours to do more.